


Here to Visit

by Medicalnonsense



Series: Here For You [2]
Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Gen, Interlude, No real relationships in this one, grocery store au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medicalnonsense/pseuds/Medicalnonsense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been almost four months since Guy has cut all contact with Thomas, he's back in Paris for winter break and is determined to find him.  However, that's not the only thing on his mind, the past few months in college have really gotten him thinking about his career path and his future.<br/>This is the second piece in a three-part series, I suggest you read "Here to Learn" first to understand the storyline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here to Visit

             Stepping out of the terminal, a fuzzy beard covering his strong jaw, Thomas’s eyes darted around, seeking a familiar face that had promised to greet him.  While it might not have been the face he missed the most, he certainly did miss him.  
             “Thomas!”  Julian called across the room, his straightened, black hair--a set of colorful feathers clipped into it--dashing at him a second later.  
             “Jules!”  Thomas threw his arms out to catch his friend as he practically flew through the air into his arms.  
             “Did you get even taller?!  That’s not fair!” The younger man complained, the discrepancy between their heights more noticeable than ever.  “And, geez, nice face fur.  Is it cold in California?” Julian asked with a chuckle, stepping back away from him.  
             “No, but it is here.” Thomas snarked at him, rubbing Julian’s bare cheeks.  “I heard it’s been snowing.”  
             “It’s December, what were you expecting?”  Jules responded, pulling his coat around himself as they headed for the airport’s exit.  
             “There are people still going to the beach in LA.” The older friend explained, his lips curving in a sly smile.  
             “Wow…  You left there for _here_?”  
             “Not like I had a choice, students can’t stay in dorms over break.”  
             “Eugh, dorms sound terrible.”  
             “Mn, they are.”

  
              _Thomas rolled over in his bed.  He already couldn’t stand the thing.  The mattress was hardly what he could’ve called a mattress--more a vinyl case with fluffy stuff inside of it--when he rolled just one-half body width to his left he fell off--a remarkable four feet to the skungy floor--and he was already too tall for it, his ankles poked over the footboard.  Tonight was particularly bad, however, because his roommate, the inconsiderate fuck, was busy screwing their date.  This was shit that you were only supposed to read about in books and see in movies, it wasn’t supposed to_ actually _happen!_  
 _It was really hilarious, actually, because Thomas knew inside that they_ thought _they were being sneaky.  There was nothing sneaky about the rhythmic “ee-ee-ee” of the bed or the “oh, ah, yes” of the woman’s high voice with the muted “fuck, hah, ho” of her date’s moans below her.  This wasn’t the first thing the woman had done either to Thomas the day before a test.  Most of the time, when Thomas asked for her to keep it down, he was trying to sleep or whatever else, she just nodded her head and kept doing what she was doing.  The men she brought back to the room had_ deplorable _manners on top of her.  As in…  In addition to her manners.  Thomas didn’t give a fuck if they were impolite on top of her because that just wasn’t any of his business.  Unless it was rape and then it was his business and someone was getting the police called on them; but Thomas, so far, had no reason to believe that that was a thing that was going on._  
 _Pulling a pillow over his head, he tried to block out the sounds he didn’t want to be hearing.  More than anything, he just wanted to call his ex._  
  
             In the car, Julian turned the key and drove out of the parking garage into the outbound traffic of the busy airport.  Thomas had been rather quiet for himself from the trek out of baggage collection to the car.  It surprised him just how much a semester without friends nearby had changed him.  Thomas’s silence didn’t tell Julian _anything_ for once; the silence he knew was out of sorrow, depression, this silence spoke of some different emotion.  This was not what Julian had been expecting.  
             “So, getting rusty on your French already, or something?”  He entered with a joke, pulling Thomas out of whatever his thoughts held.  The older man turned from the window to regard him.  
             “I’m sorry.  I was just thinking of all the things I have to do while I’m here.”  
             “ _Have_ to do?  You’re on break!  You spent a whole semester doing nothing but ‘stuff’!  Just relax, hang, you know.”  
             Thomas chuckled at his friend’s observation and relaxed back in his seat, “I want to find him.”  
             Julian’s eyebrows pulled down and his lips pressed together to form a scowl, “Him again?  Aren’t you over him, yet?”

  
              _Though the initial call broke him, Thomas still tried to contact him.  He tried going through Skype to call him, called at different times of day, even called Julian to ask him to call…  Creeping, maybe, but Thomas so desperately needed to know that this division was purposeful.  If he could just be 100 percent sure of that, he wouldn’t feel so frantic.  He would be in pain still and his crying would still take hours to assuage, but there would be no uncertainty._  
 _That uncertainty gave him hope._  
               
             “No, I’m going to look for him.”  Thomas informed his friend, staring out the window with an almost stern expression.  
             “Thomas, he basically left you a ‘goodbye, it’s been great, have a nice life’ message.”  
             “It was still sudden…  If that is the way he felt.”  
             “Just let it--”  
             “Stop trying to discourage me, Jules.”  Thomas cut him off, stunning his younger friend with the severity of his tone.  “I’m not going to organize a manhunt or anything…” his tone reverted back to the safe Thomas Julian knew.  “I’ve just been so…  I’ve done so much and wanted him there the whole time and I…”  
             “If you use the ‘L’ word, Bangalter, I will not hesitate to slap you.”  
             “I know.  I guess, maybe, I need that.”  The man’s face arranged itself into a frown, “I missed you too, of course…  But I got to talk and Skype with you.”  
             “What are you going to do if he doesn’t care anymore?”  
             Thomas shrugged before answering, “At least I’ll know something for sure.”  
             “So, closure, eh?”  
             “Yeah.  Closure.”  
  
              _”You cry a lot.”  Cynthia Malone commented, she bent over a cluster of books and papers._  
 _Thomas, sitting over on his bed, looked up from his Theory of Sound homework.  He swallowed, Cynthia in two weeks had give him a “hello” and a name and nothing else.  Not knowing how else to put his answer, he said “I’m sad a lot.”_  
 _“I get that.”  She kept writing.  “Where are you from?”_  
 _“Ah,_ Paris _.”  Nothing would stop Thomas from pronouncing his home city the way it was meant to be.  English pronunciation be damned.  His thick accent did marginalize him--students claimed many times already that he needed to enunciate better--but it was his only link back to the comfort of his home.  Even if his classmates did have to ask him to repeat things three times over and muttered behind his back that he probably thought himself above the rest of them._  
 _“Gay Par-ee, eh?”_  
 _“G-Gay?  What?”  Thomas blushed, were his sexual proclivities that obvious?!  Not that he thought he was gay.  Men and women both did it for him.  This was not a topic he had ever needed to speak of in English before.  Though, he was sure the term for such a thing was probably easy._  
 _“Calm down.  I’m not_ calling _you gay.  It’s just a phrase, gay means happy too and all.  I think it was a line in some…  Some song or something, I don’t know.” she explained, “But if you are gay, that’s not a problem either.”_  
 _“I see.”  Thomas nodded.  It wasn’t any of her business he reminded himself.  He didn’t anticipate having a boyfriend any time soon, or even a girlfriend for that matter._  
 _“But, you miss home?”_  
 _“Yeah.”_  
 _“Mom and dad?”_  
 _“Yeah.”  Thomas bit his tongue._  
 _“Got a special someone?”_  
 _Thomas suddenly felt like he understood Guy’s initial problem with him.  This uncalled for interview was more like an interrogation.  This person was asking a lot of questions he really didn’t feel like answering, but felt obligated to out of politeness.  With the latter feeling weighing him down, he did respond, “I did.”_  
 _“Oh…  Didn’t like the LDR?”_  
 _“Uh…  A wh-what?”_  
 _“Long-Distance Relationship.”  Cynthia held up one finger per word as she explained._  
 _“Oh, no…”_  
 _“That sucks.”  She nodded, “But, you win some, you lose some.  You know.  Probably would’ve cheated on you anyway.  Really, that’s for the--”_  
 _“He wouldn’t do that.”  So much for keeping that detail under wraps._  
 _“He didn’t want to do the long-distance thing, Thomas.”  The younger of the two of them felt almost a little offended that she felt as if they were on a first-name basis after this being their only conversation so far.  “Even if you both agreed, he still wouldn’t want it.  When people do things they don’t want for partners for a long time, they grow resentful and bitter.  Would you want that?”_  
 _“N-No…”_  
 _“It’s best that it happened.  You both can grow as people.  He’s in France, you’re here.”_  
 _“I just wish that he would’ve said something.”_  
 _“Move on, he sounds like a dick anyway.”_  
 _“Yeah, I guess.”_  
  
             Having wasted no time after saying “hello” to his granny, Thomas went to the grocery store his relationship began in.  Jitters settled into his body as he strode through the doors.  What was he going to say to him?  Would Guy be happy to see him?  Was this going to be a meeting like they had never known each other before?  A million questions raced through his mind and so his heart did race along with them.  
             He shed the past few months of growth at the mere scent of the building.  He felt the ache in his arms, the releasing and confining fatigue of late nights spent out and the gleeful giddiness.  Of course, it wasn’t the work here that he missed, but he would still look back upon them fondly.  If his winter break was any longer than it was, he might have even considered asking for temporary re-hire.  Grocery stores always did have a heavier workload over the holidays.  Maybe next year he could do that--maybe over the summer.  
             With the intake of a deep breath, Thomas set himself towards the back of the store.  His eyes flicked around for people he knew during the trek.  The people he had seen almost every day carried on with their busy jobs just as he knew they would without him there.  Some gave him smiles, a few even raised their hands to wave, the disconcerting thing was, however, Bern and Matt must have both been off that day because neither of them were there…  That was going to make finding Guy-Man a little harder, but all he had to do was find the second hire that would be helping him in the back.  
             When a man dragging a cart full of stock left the back room, Thomas jumped at the chance to ask.  Trying to be as polite as possible, he came to walk side-by-side with the employee, “Excuse me?”  
             The stocker stopped and gave him an amiable smile.  That smile that anyone who is being interrupted while doing a very tedious job somehow manages to push out in spite of immense irritation. In a curious tone, he did what any employee would, ask “Can I help you with something?”  
             “Uhm, yeah, when is the next time Guy-Man works?”  Obviously, if the managers had kept another person on for any amount of time, Guy-Man wouldn’t be here today.  
             The stocker’s face became confused and he gave Thomas what was perhaps the most terrifying answer, “Who?”  
             Thomas fumbled for something to say, feeling his cheeks redden and neck bloom with heat, “Uhm, ah…  H-He doesn’t work here anym-more?”  
             “I guess not.”  The employee shrugged, “Sorry, man.  I’ve been here for about three months and haven’t met anyone by that name.”  
             “Really?!”  Thomas gasped, his mouth hanging open while his eyebrows crinkled sadly.  
             The other man shook his head, “You used to work with him or something?”  
             “Y-Yeah…  I’ve b-been gone for awhile.”  
             “Sorry about that.  Is there anything else I can help you with?”  
             “N-No.  I’m sorry t-to have bothered you.”  Thomas forced a polite smile to him.  
             “It’s all right, have a nice day.  Hope you find your friend.”  And the man continued his job, dragging off the carts and carts of product.  
             Thomas was left standing haplessly in the middle of the sales floor.  Guy-Man had never been really social, it had taken Thomas being his boyfriend to learn anything about him and even during their relationship there still had been many questions left unanswered.  Guy-Man had still refused to talk about his family all the same, didn’t like talking about _anything_ that predated their meeting.  Though Thomas had dragged out of him the high schools he had gone to--the first he had gotten expelled from--he realized that he didn’t even know Guy-Man’s last name…  
              _Was our relationship even real?_  Thomas wondered for a second.  He wondered that a lot.  He was sure that most couples were supposed to be able to talk about everything, even the painful stuff.  Hadn’t Thomas shared almost everything with him?  As Thomas stood frowning, in the middle of his existential crisis, he heard a voice to his right.  
             “Something you need help with?”  Thomas jumped with the very proximity of the person.  Once he found him that was, the man was even shorter than Guy-Man had been!  Or, boy, perhaps, he looked quite young and the height didn’t help him any if he actually was Thomas’s age.  “No offense, but you look kinda lost.”  
             “Uh-Uh…”  Thomas stared down at the jubilant, young and bright blue eyes.  They seemed so sincerely eager to him!  “Uhm…  D-Do you know the tall guy with the beard that works in the meat department?”  Thomas rather dumbly asked.  
            The short boy’s thick eyebrows pulled down in almost surprised contemplation.  A sense of deja vu rolled over Thomas, but it was dispelled the moment the boy’s lips puckered outward to intensify his expression, “There’s, like, five of them.” the boy giggled, sounding rather familiar and pulling on his heartstrings.  “Did you just wake up with a craving for them or was there one in particular you were seeking?”  
             At the boy’s easy, cheerful teasing, Thomas’s already dark cheeks were set on fire anew, “A-A-A par-particular o-one, ye-yes.”  He reached up to rub the back of his neck, “Mathieu.” the older of the two clarified.  
             “Oh yeah?  I know of him.”  The boy nodded with enthusiasm, “He was transferred to one of the other stores, though.  He’s a manager now.”  
             On the one hand, Thomas was happy for Matt, on the other…  That was inconvenient.  Humming, Thomas further enquired, “What about his friend, Bernerd?”  
             “Quit two weeks ago, works as a bartender…  Somewhere.”  The boy shrugged.  “Did’ja use to work here?”  
             “Y-Yeah, I d-d-did before I went to University in Am-Merica.”  
             “Oh!  That sounds fun!  What’s it like over there?  Where do you go? Wh--”  
             At that precise moment, Thomas’s yammering “friend” was cut off by the bakery manager, Leonard, as Thomas remembered, walking over and interrupting, “De Homem-Christo, you socializing or working?”  
             Thomas’s eyebrows perked up at the name, didn’t quite come by a last name like that everyday.  He opened his mouth to intervene, but “de Homem-Christo’s” mouth worked faster,  “I was only trying to help this man out!”  he motioned with a waving hand over to Thomas.  
              “He used to work here, I don’t think he needs any help from _you_ to find what he needs.”  Leonard gave a “hello” smile to Thomas before looking back to the young man.  Thomas did remember the bakery manager having a very short temper--with Guy-Man in particular, actually, as Guy-Man loved to request his favorite chocolate-filled croissants fresh out of the oven.  
             Thomas stuttered a few more times, helplessly watching as de Homem-Christo pouted at his manager, “I’m sorry, sir.  I’ll get back to work.”  
             With a very heavy sigh, he watched the friendly man get back to work.  He supposed he could go around and ask if anyone else knew where Guy-Man or Matthieu or Bern went, but he felt it just somehow wasn’t worth his time.  Guy-Man didn’t even open up to his best of friends, it seemed, he doubted anyone else would know.  So, his heart heavy in his chest, he shuffled from the store and went back home.  
  
             Thomas’s room seemed different from how he had left it.  It wasn’t the change of curtains his grandmother had given the room, it wasn’t his perfectly made bed--as it _never_ was when he was home--but he couldn’t put his finger on it.  Hm, what was it?  
             Shaking his head, he passed it off as just the room was far bigger than the one he had just spent a whole semester in.  The best part of that too was that the room was private now.  He sighed with a smile this time, scratching at his beard before dropping down into his bed.  The room was comfortingly different, it felt safe and full of light.  
             Looking to his father’s record-player, he almost stood up and put on some tunes, but…  His eyes fell on the crate of records beneath the stand, The Chronic being at the front of the collection suddenly broke the comfort of the room.  His smile turning to a frown, he rolled over in his bed to face the wall, pulling his comforter over his shoulders.  
             With a mumble, he took out one arm from the comforter afterwards and picked up the remote to his stereo, clicking it on and sitting the remote back down.  This was fine…  This was safe…  This was familiar _without_ him.  
\-------  
  
             “Are you sure about this place?” Thomas asked, staring at the front of the seedy, downtown club.  He hadn’t been out and about in this kind of atmosphere without the much more street-savvy Guy-Man before, so he wasn’t the best judge of a venue.  Odd, considering not that long ago he wanted to be in a band and _this_ would’ve been the type of place they would’ve started at.  
             “Yeah, it’s cool, couple of my buds and I come down here at least once a month.” Julian assured him.  
             Doing a bit of math, Thomas smiled and raised an eyebrow at him, “So this is the third or fourth time you’ve been here?”  
             “Uh…”  Julian blushed a bit as he realized his phrasing still meant he was new to the place, “Third…”  At his answer, Thomas chuckled. “Stop!  It’s not like it’s my second though!  I know this place!  The bar staff _love_ me!”  
             “Uh-huh, sure, I believe you.” Thomas responded amiably, nodding with a knowing smile on his face. “Trying to impress me, Jules?”  
             “Pfft, impress you?  Why would I try to do that?”  He huffed, grabbing Thomas’s sleeve and hauling him inside, “I know it’s kinda not your deal with these loud places with so many people, but try not to….  Hey, come back!”  
            “Can’t!  This i-is my song!” Thomas whooped, darting for the dancefloor as a song started that Julian could not rightfully name.  His only insight to Thomas’s enthusiasm was that he could tell the track was by Chic. That fucking dork.  
  
              _“So… Do you, like…  Have any music from the current_ century _?” A party-goer asked, walking straight up to Thomas with his laptop._  
 _“Uh, yeah, I h-have, um…  Phoenix?” Thomas offered.  He wasn’t entirely sure why he had agreed to do music for this floor party.  He didn’t know any of these people other than Cynthia--and she was off probably banging someone,--oh, and that guy in the room across the bathroom from them that pointedly never looked Thomas in the eye as he stole the shower in the morning._  
 _“Who?” The confused, drunk man asked.  “Got any like… Skrillex or Deadmau5?  Knife Party?”_  
 _One would think after having extensive conversations with Guy-Man about these kinds of musical groups, he would’ve gone and acquired some of their music, alas, Thomas was without and severely lacking in the DJ area.  In an attempt to placate the man, he suggested, “I have, uh…  Green Velvet?”  By the pointed expression of “Who?” on the man’s face Thomas gleaned that was not what the man was looking for. “Kraftwerk?” Just some more staring straight ahead, “Todd Edwards?” nope, now Thomas was just getting irritated, “Romanthony?” Okay…  Just as a test, Thomas threw out “Tool?”  When the man still didn’t have the light of recognition in his eyes he arrived at the conclusion that this man was just an idiot.  “Justice is kinda like them.” He threw out, a little dead inside.  He loved Justice and he knew the student wouldn’t know who that was either.  “Let’s see….  Current century…”  Then Thomas remembered that not that long ago, one of Cynthia’s many beaus had given him a suggestion  “If rap is more your thing I also have some Die Antwoord.”  The guy just nodded, swaying back and forth on his feet.  “I’m just going to put on some Dr. Dre and call it an evening.” He decided with a sigh._  
 _“Dr. Dre is in the house!” The student finally called, turning away and shuffling off, leaving Thomas confident that he was never going to be conned into this job again._  
  
             What had once been only a monthly thing for Julian ended up sort of becoming a tri-monthly thing once all of Thomas’s enthusiastic visits were factored in.  In the short time that Thomas had been back to visit home, they went around five times.  Julian was amazed over and over with how much Thomas really didn’t seem to need an anchor in social situations anymore.  This whole time he had spent worrying about Thomas’s well-being without a friend nearby had apparently been for nothing.  
             Which, now that he thought about it, Thomas always had been a kind of social butterfly up until the accident.  It warmed Julian’s heart and made him smile to see Thomas so eagerly getting in on the dancing and socializing with the other club-goers.  However, his smile faltered with every glance around the room Thomas made.  Everytime they went somewhere new downtown or went into a music store, there was always that first scan with his eyes.  His eyes paused on shorter, long-haired people without fail.  If a man was bent over a box of records or a woman had her back to him, they were always scrutinized closely.  
             “Any luck finding him?” Julian decided to ask once Thomas came and sat down at the bar with him.  He took a sip of his beer and Thomas spluttered.  
             “W-What?  Wh-who?”  
             “Don’t play dumb with me, Bangalter.”  
             “I-I’m not…”  Thomas frowned, looking away from him.  Had he really been that transparent?  
             “Is that the only reason we’ve been coming out so much?  That you’ve been so talkative?”  
             “No…  I really am having fun…  I just thought…  You know?”  
             Sighing, Julian sipped his beer again and made a dissatisfied face, “I guess I shouldn’t blame you.  What he did was pretty shitty.”  
             “I just feel like this is going to be my only chance…”  
             “Why’s that?” The younger man asked, tipping his head to the side.  Thomas was flying out soon, sure, but he was coming back for the summer, right?  
             Flicking his eyes down to the bar, he watched Thomas pick at the corner to an advertisement left there.  Some new hotshot DJ with a flowery emblem must’ve left it, the show wasn’t even going to be at this club.  The nerve.  What kind of a name was Crydamoure anyway?  
             “Well, Jules…  You see…”  
  
               _“Applying to the business school?” Cynthia raised an eyebrow, chewing on a pencil.  It was cold in the room, so both of the occupants wore thick sweaters and fuzzy socks.  “I thought you were sound engineering?”_  
 _“Y-Yeah, I’ve done a lot of-of-of searching and I’ve always wanted to-to own my own… Um…”  Thomas had to think for a second to come up with the proper English word, his excitement for the topic did not help his difficulty with articulation in the least “A music producing…  Business?”_  
 _“Done a lot of_ thinking _?” Cynthia offered with a smile._  
 _“Y-Yeah…  That.” Thomas responded with a blush._  
 _“Wanna be a big music producer?” She giggled, flipping through her homework._  
 _“M-M -Maybe…  I think I h-have what it takes.”_  
 _“Be that as it may…  I’m not making fun of you here, but, if you want to make it in business, I’d suggest doing something about that stutter.” She bluntly suggested._  
 _“W-Well,” Thomas began, suppressing a spluttering noise, “It-it-it’s only when I’m nervous or-or excited!”_  
 _“And you don’t think that when you have a big meeting to speak in front of or when you’re enthusiastic about a new business venture that it won’t happen when you’re older?”_  
 _Thomas was silent after that for a number of moments, he hadn’t thought about it really, but…  She did have a point, “Do you think…  Do you think that I’ll have to have therapy for it, or…”_  
 _“I don’t think so.  Do you still have it when you speak French?”_  
 _“A little, n-not as bad.”_  
 _“I don’t think so, then.  You can probably get a handle on it yourself.” She suggested, going to sit aside her homework, “Do you wanna order pizza?”_  
 _Though their conversation a few moments ago had been helpful, Thomas really wasn’t ready to even say the two were friends.  He really had the urge to ask “with what money?” but then he remembered that part of the fees of school was a meal plan for on-campus stores.  Which, he had gone most of the semester without using...  With a reluctant sigh, he answered “Why not?”_  
  
             “So, when do you think you’ll be back?” Julian asked, laying on Thomas’s floor the night before he was to fly back to California.  “If you get that summer internship…  Will I see you at all?”  
             “Next winter.” Thomas answered.  
             “But that’s so long, and…”  
             “I don’t know if I will.  I’ll have only just started my business classes…  I’m not that great of a sound engineer either, so…”  Thomas shrugged, curled up in his bed.  
             “I’m gonna miss you, dude…”  
             “I’m going to miss you too…”  
             “So…  If you _do_ make it big as a producer…” Julian began, moving along to happier subjects, “What do you think you’d call yourself?  Just Thomas Bangalter?  That sounds original enough, not everyone’s got that name in America.”  
             “I dunno, I don’t think I’d like everyone knowing my real name.  Knowing who _I_ am, they don’t have paparazzi laws in California like we do here in Paris.”  
             Julian laughed, “You _really_ thought of that?  Someone’s got high hopes.”  
             “W-Well, I was jus-just…  It _is_ something to consider, just in case.”  
             “Guess I should count myself lucky.  Knowing you _before_ you got famous.”  Julian continued to laugh. “Oh!  What about T-Bang!?  DJ T-Bang sounds awesome!”  
             “Ew.” Thomas laughed, “No.  I’ll think of something.  Got to be something cool…  Maybe in French.  I don’t get to use it enough at school.”  
             “What’s wrong with DJ T-Bang?  I think it sounds cool…”  
             “I think it makes me sound like a disease.”  
             “No, that’s the T- _virus_.”  
             Sensing Julian’s thought process, Thomas beat him to the punch as soon as he heard the gasp of an idea “ _No_ , I’m pretty sure that’s copyright infringement anyway.”  
             “Ah, come _on_ , Thomas.  Eighty percent of De-La-Soul’s discography is technically copyright infringement now-a-days.”  
             “And that’s also why you can’t buy any of their music off iTunes, so I’d rather not…”  
             “But think about it!  DJ T-Virus, here to drop some sick, ill and dirty beats!”  
             While that did get a chuckle out of Thomas, he still dissented, “ _No_ , Julian.  I’d rather spin, rock and roll some tunes.” He supplemented.  
             “Too bad N.E.R.D. is taken, because you are one.” Julian poked.  “Think D.O.R.K. is still unclaimed?” he sniggered.  
             “Very funny.” Thomas sighed, rolling his eyes.  
             “Spin, rock or roll…”  Julian hummed, “There’s got to be something in there…  I’ll think of something tomorrow.” he decided, settling in to sleep.  
             “We got plenty of time.” Thomas assured him, smiling widely as he too settled in, listening as Julian recited on the floor “ _Pivoté, bercé, roulé_.” he sighed with a smile, shaking his head.  His mind was a million miles away.  The next day he would be going back to America for school and starting on his business classes.  Though, as he fell asleep, contemplating what this new semester would bring, he did play around with one word that really struck his fancy “ _Roulé_.”  
  
To be continued in “Here to Stay”


End file.
